


As Sweet

by KiloAlphaJigsaw



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Humor, M/M, post-coital pillow talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 04:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiloAlphaJigsaw/pseuds/KiloAlphaJigsaw
Summary: "...I just assumed you'd've named yours Little Derek.”“No.” This had to be nipped in the bud.Stiles' thumbs kept sweeping along the crease of Derek's groin. “Derek Junior?”“No.”“D.J?”“No.”“D.D? For Derek's Dick?”“No!”





	As Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own, don't profit - don't sue!  
> 9/2/2017. Just noticed AO3 stole my italics - replaced them.

Derek was still panting, taking in lungfuls of delicious _Stilesandsex_ scent, head buzzing pleasantly, as Stiles leaned over him to grab a wetwipe from the container on the headboard and wiped off his chin and throat, then the fingers of his left hand, one by one. _Those fingers – damn._

“I'm so fucking glad I was able to order the wipes warmer online. There's no way the clerks at Babies R Us wouldn't have known I was getting it for seriously non-infant-related purposes. And then they'd have judged me with their beady little retail drone eyes, Derek, and then where would I have been? Beady retail drone eyes are like the third worst beady eyes. After teachers and old ladies in the grocery store.” He threw the wipe in the trash can next to the bed, then got another one out and nudged Derek's inner thigh with his knee.

“You don't have to do that,” Derek murmured, bending his leg up anyways. They'd been together less than a month, and he still wasn't used to Stiles'... _Stiles._

“Shut up,” Stiles answered, without heat, carefully wiping the lube off Derek's ass, then throwing the wipe away. “Lift,” he said, pulling the towel out from under Derek when he did, and drying the wolf's ass with a clean corner of it, then tossing it toward the laundry basket in the corner. “Yes!” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air and doing a little shimmy in celebration. “Three points! And the crowd goes wild! Hhhhhhhhh!”

Derek just closed his eyes, too languid to bother rolling them at his boyfriend's antics. The bed bounced as Stiles' changed position. Derek smiled to himself a little when Stiles laid his hands on Derek's upper thighs, thumbs sweeping back and forth very close to Derek's groin.

“Are you sleepy, baby?” he asked. “Gonna take a nap all snuggled in your sleeping bag?”

_What?_ “What?”

“Hush, big guy. I'm not talking to you.”

Derek cracked his eyes open and frowned down at Stiles. “What?” he asked again, not sure if he should be pissed or not that Stiles was harshing his afterglow. “Who the fuck are you talking to then?”

“Little Derek,” he said, gently petting Derek's dick. He cupped Derek's balls, carefully shifting them. “Lemme fluff your pillows, baby,” he cooed – actually cooed, like he was talking to a baby.

Derek managed to roll his eyes. “My dick doesn't have a name, Stiles. Quit being weird.”

“Everybody's dick has a name, dude. Well, every guy's dick has a name. I don't know if girls name their clits or not, and there's no fucking way I'm ever asking. Mine is Little Stiles, which, I know, is unoriginal, but to be fair, it seemed great when I was 12 and named him that, so I just assumed you'd've named yours Little Derek.”

“No.” This had to be nipped in the bud.

Stiles' thumbs kept sweeping along the crease of Derek's groin. “Derek Junior?”

“No.”

“D.J?”

“No.”

“D.D? For Derek's Dick?”

“No!”

Stiles was silent a few moments, thumbs moving ceaselessly, fingers flexing occasionally in a pleasurable pressure. “Lord Dongly of Weinerton?”

Derek covered his face with both hands. “Jesus Christ, Stiles! No!” he said, somewhat muffled.

Stiles sighed, warm breath washing over Derek's dick, making it twitch – then twitch again when Stiles gave the tip a gentle kiss. “Sorry, little guy, I guess your daddy wants you to remain anonymous. Sleep tight.” The bed bucked and heaved again as Stiles sat up, shifting his legs outside Derek's to straddle his thighs, Derek reflexively closing his legs to give him room.

Stiles ran his hands up Derek's torso, from abs to pecs, pausing to rub his thumbs over Derek's nipples, making Derek suppress a shiver, before sweeping them back down again. “Did you ever get pulled over by the police?” he asked.

“What?” What the hell was he talking about?

“You know,” he said, “for having a six pack” and here he swept his hands up over Derek's abs, across his chest, then down his arms, adding “and two guns” as he squeezed Derek's biceps.

Derek let Stiles press his arms down to uncover his face. “What are you, eight?”

“Just because you learn a joke when you're eight doesn't mean you can't enjoy it when you're eighteen,” he said as he lowered himself down to lie on Derek's chest, leaning on his forearms braced next to Derek's head, and rubbing his thumbs over Derek's eyebrows. “We should name your eyebrows. This one,” he said, tapping the right one, “we'll call Woolly Bear. And this one,” tapping the left, “we'll call-” He hesitated, frowning. “The only other caterpillar name I know is Tent Caterpillar, and that guy” - he tapped Derek's eyebrow again - “does not look like a tent caterpillar. Maybe we can call them the Woolly Bear Twins? But I don't think they'd like being just lumped together as The Twins – most twins don't like it when people don't differentiate them. And what if we need to talk about them individually? Now we're right back in the same boat with needing two names.” He frowned again, absently stroking the brows again.

Derek huffed. “I don't think that'll be a problem, Stiles. Quit anthropomorphizing my body parts.”

Stiles smirked. “Oooo, look who swallowed a dictionary and is spewing up giant words.”

Derek frowned. “ 'Spewing.' That's a lovely image, Stiles. Thanks for that. I didn't need any afterglow, anyways.”

Stiles sighed through his nose, and shifted his thumbs to rub under Derek's eyes. “Your eyes are so pretty,” he said, looking rapidly between them. “So many colors. Like a rainbow.” He swept his thumbs back and forth under Derek's eyes, seemingly mesmerized, scent gone soft and warm.

Derek felt his heart do something weird, a flutter or a clench or something like that, and lifted his hands to lay them on Stiles' waist. “You gonna name _them_ , too?” he asked, aiming for snotty, but sounding a little breathless instead.

Stiles smiled, a slow, soft smile that made Derek's heart do that thing again. “Nah,” he said. “Your eyes are the window to your soul; they're you. They don't need any other name but yours.”

_Jesus._ Derek's heart was gonna wrench itself out of his chest. He slid his hands up Stiles' back and pulled him down into a slow, hot kiss, sucking on his lower lip, tasting himself, tasting them.

Stiles pulled back slightly, and smiled down at him again, lips shiny and red. “But I'm naming your asshole Rosebud.”

Derek flipped them over and smothered Stiles' hysterical laughter with his mouth, and neither said anything for quite some time.

~*~

The next day, when Derek put his hand down Stiles pants and said, “ 'ello, yer lordship,” in a bad cockney accent, Stiles laughed so hard he lost his erection. But it was worth it.

The end

~*~

_What's in a name? that which we call a rose_  
_By any other name would smell as sweet._  
~William Shakespeare, “Romeo and Juliet”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I DID learn the "six pack and two guns " joke from an eight-year-old boy. Sigh.  
> Thanks so much for reading!


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